Dominic stared out the window of the 747 as it sat on the runway at JFK. They had already been sitting here for half an hour, and the pilot had still not announced their take off was imminent.
Earlier that afternoon, he had sat inside the airport at Detroit, watching the snow come down and wondering if his flight would be canceled. November snowstorms were not uncommon in Michigan, and Dominic had the misfortune of timing his departure during the first storm of the winter. He had finally boarded, and then sat on the plane as it was de-iced—and de-iced, and de-iced, and de-iced—until finally the plane took off for New York. But in New York it was rain, and the passengers had to disembark on the tarmac as they walked by their luggage being unloaded from the plane for transfer in the downpou
